


But your blood does not bleed red no more

by crimson_night



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Fix-It of Sorts, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kinda, M/M, Mentioned Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Villentretenmerth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimson_night/pseuds/crimson_night
Summary: But this time is different. This time he won`t just forgive and forget easily. This time his friend blamed him for all the shit in his life that Geralt bestowed on himself with his own hands.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 49
Kudos: 246





	1. It’s whiter than the sun burns

**Author's Note:**

> And so I tried to write something else. I`m not as productive as I want to be but I`ll try to do better. I`ll add new tags and change the rating in the process if needed.
> 
> And, uh, enjoy?

Jaskier looked once more at witcher`s broad shoulders and muttered quietly, “See you around, Geralt.” He started to walk away quickly, desperately trying to see the path beneath his feet through tears swelling up in his eyes. ‘Well,’ he thought to himself,’ you should`ve seen it coming. It was bound to happen someday.’

He thought Geralt a friend. Sure, the whitehead would never say it out loud and even object every time Jaskier as much as murmured the very word. But he`s not a man of words; he`s a man of actions. And Geralt showed he cared with his actions. He bought him more suitable for traveling boots, gifted him a silver dagger to defend himself, he always protected him from vengeful cuckolds. He laughed at his jokes, quirked an eyebrow, and crooked his lips in a small smile when Jaskier amused him with his behavior. The witcher dragged him from tavern drunks, who dared to spit at Geralt`s feet and call him all the hateful names. And Jaskier patched his wounds, washed his hair, bought dinners and rooms for both of them with money earned from his performances when the other was low on coin. They shared one bed quite often in twenty years of friendship and had a lot of quiet midnight conversations.

Of course, they had fights, and Geralt lashed out on him in his anger sometimes, but they made peace with each other pretty quickly and asked for forgiveness in their own way.

But this time is different. This time he won`t just forgive and forget easily. This time _his friend_ blamed him for all the shit in his life that Geralt bestowed on himself with _his own hands_.

‘The djinn? Was _I_ the one to fish for a dangerous magical creature in a pond or a river, or whatever it was, because of sleep deprivation?’ Suddenly, Jaskier feels sorrow and grief turns into a hot fury that starts to reach a peak of boiling inside him; he quickens his steps, and goes in the direction of the camp.’ Was _I_ the one to make a stupid wish and bind a scary insane sorceress to you?’ He finds his bedroll in the same state he left it, grabs it, and folds it, his hands shaking from the fire of feelings burning in his chest.

’Oh, _the Child Surprise_? Did I put those stupid fucking words in your mouth? Wasn`t the whole betrothal a decent fucking example what a clusterfuck calling a Law of Surprise can turn into? And doing it as a joke?’ The brunet grits his teeth, his hand tightens around the leather strap of his lute case,’ You called it upon yourself, you fucker! Don`t blame for your foolish actions!’

He doesn’t want to see Geralt now. He doesn’t want to see anybody, to be honest. But that’s quite a hard feat to accomplish, considering there`s only one path up and down the mountain. He wants to be as far away as possible from this damned place. Jaskier tries to calm himself with few deep breaths and decide what to do next.

Surprisingly, the solution comes to him pretty quickly. The poet lifts his right hand closer to his face and stares at it attentively. In a couple of seconds, he sees little waves of colorful magic surrounding the base of his middle finger. They form a silver ring in the shape of wildflowers’ stems weaving around his third digit and meeting on the center with three buttercups` blossoms.

He braces himself and slides off the ring.

It feels like the enormous weight on his back that crouched him down to the ground for twenty years lifts, and he can finally straighten his spine. Jaskier has never felt this free in his life. Rage and anger shift to the background of his mind as the bliss of freedom kicks all the thoughts out from his head.

His magic whispers to him softly and greets him like an old friend. It surrounds him like a little storm, and he can`t stop smiling. The bard carefully lowers precious elven lute to the ground, shrugs off his expensive red doublet and bluish chemise. He neatly folds his clothes and puts them in the bag. Jaskier picks up his possessions and mutters in relief, “Finally.”

Then, he runs and jumps off the cliff, the white smoke of clouds devouring him.


	2. Its bright with every hum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello, sweetheart," he greets his dear companion, " I came to say goodbye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, you beautiful creatures, for your coments and kudos!  
> They inspire me so much!  
> (And, again, sorry for short chapter)
> 
> Please, let me know what you think in the comments!

So, he`s falling, cold mountain wind punching him in the face, irritating his eyes and making them water, goosebumps raising all over his torso for the apparent lack of clothing on his upper body. For humans, jumping off the cliff is a ticket straight to the end of the journey that is their life.

He was not a human, thankfully.

Jaskier`s not afraid of squashing his face into a bloody mess on the next best rock his head can find, because he knows that just can`t happen. The reason why he was so sure begun to reveal itself, and he moaned and bit his lower lip as the sensation similar to pain starts gnawing at his skin in the area of his shoulder blades.

Magic purrs to him again, and in that instant moment, two massive wings brake out from his spine in a fast, almost painless spurt. They make a few firm flaps, and Jaskier is soaring.

He didn`t fly for so long; he almost forgot the sheer joy of it. Jaskier`s crying from experiencing all those old-new feelings all over again, and there are too many different emotions burling inside him that he can`t quite put his finger on any of them.

Then, he hears magic`s soft call once more, the same sensation prickles at his whole face, and two long horns emerge from the edge of his hairline, repeating their elegant spiral in their way up, his cheekbones become a lot more prominent, his ears pointier, more rhomb-like. Now there are two pairs of canines in his upper row of teeth, and they are a lot more sharper, too. For the last of his inhuman features, a thick flexible scaly tail appears in his right leg pant, and it`s much longer than his legs, so the new anatomy part just hangs from it awkwardly and slightly unnerves him.

It feels like hours passed since the jump, but in reality, he knows it was mere seconds.

The bard looks at the mesmerizing view of Dragon Mountains, and he would`ve enjoyed it if it weren`t the same view he was looking at while being a target of witcher`s misplaced fury. They seem to him downright nauseating, for now, at least.

Not expecting any new bodyparts, Jaskier flaps his wings and sets in the direction of the mountain`s foot, where Roach was left, to retrieve the other bag with his belongings. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for not forgetting about it and clears all the thoughts from his head.

\----

By the time Jaskier nears the clearing where everyone left their horses, it is late evening, and cicadas have already begun their twilight's song, accompanying fireflies' sparkling light show. He decides to land not very far from the edge of the meadow as a precaution in case someone might see him. Well, not just him, but his true form. ‘Can`t have anyone know I`m a fae, right?’

After waiting for a couple of minutes, the bard finally emerges from behind the trees and strolls to the chestnut mare. He almost steps on his tail, not used to it for twenty years of its absence, and curses then moves it up the leg pant and circles around his waist a couple of times so that it won`t get in the way.

"Hello, sweetheart," he greets his dear companion, " I came to say goodbye."

He pats her white striped muzzle, and she headbutts him affectionately. It seems Roach is not repelled by his unusual for her appearance, and Jaskier is not surprised, to be honest. Animals always loved his kind a lot more than humans.

"It's time for us to part ways again," his hand reached to the horse's mane and started to comb it with his fingers," for the last time, it seems."

She neighs quietly and nuzzles at his neck as if to say she'll miss him. "I'll miss you too, my dear heart." The bard wraps his arm around mare`s neck and hugs her closer, feeling his tears start to fall on her mane. And Roach, the amazing lady that she is, rubs her head against his and his heart breaks that he has to take himself _off her master`s hands_.

Jaskier pats her once more and begins to untether the bag with his clothes from the saddle. Then, he decides it would be a lot more convenient just to put his smaller bag that he took for the track up the mountain into the second, bigger one.

“You`re a fae.” A sudden comment startles him as he didn`t hear anyone approaching. He looks up and meets the gaze of an older man. ‘Shit, that`s just _brilliant_.’ Jaskier thought.

“ And you`re a dragon. Are we going to point out some more obvious facts?” he bites back, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. ‘So much for not letting anyone know.’

Borch seems absolutely unfazed by his comment and stares at the bard as if he were a particularly amusing child. “ I didn`t feel any residual magic on you. How did you manage to hide it so well? The witcher doesn`t know, I assume.”

The fae scowls at him some more and breaks the silence, “ I have my secrets. I also much preferred _this_ ,” he gestures to himself,” to be a secret. So yes, _the witcher_ doesn`t know.” Jaskier folds his arms on his chest then,” You`re a dragon, as we so helpfully established a few moments ago, the rarest dragon. So unique that the White Wolf himself thought you were a myth. Surely,” he huffs,” you must know fuck-all to figure out how I hid it so well.”

“Contrary to popular beliefs,” Villentretenmerth smiles at him,” the fact that I am an ancient being does not mean I know, as you said, fuck-all.” The dragon keeps his facial expressions quite pleasant to show the other man that he is not a threat and that he has the purest of intentions, but this annoys him a big deal for obvious reasons. The bard sighs.

“What`s the point of this conversation? What do you want from me? I`m in a hurry here,” Jaskier questions and pointedly puts his lute on the right shoulder and the bag on his left.

“All I want to do,” the older man sighs too,” is to give you an advice-

“No,” the fae doesn`t let him finish his thoughts, feeling outraged once more at the dragon`s blatant audacity,” _no_! I have had _enough_ of your advices!” Jaskier points his finger at the creature before him,” What good did your advices do for Geralt? For Yennefer? For _me_? Hm?” He gestures openly, his fingers pointing somewhere at the sky.

“ _Nothing_ good, as you can see!” He almost screams, electric blue eyes stare stubbornly at Borch`s brown. Then, the musician takes a deep breath and adds quietly,” I`m done here. Farewell.”

And before Borch can say something else, Jaskier spreads his massive wings and flies up in a quick spurt, shocking even the dragon with his speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember Borra from Maleficent? Those are horns I imagine Jaskier with.


	3. Chapter 3

Guys, I promise you I didn't abandon this fic! This idea was rubbing against my skull for months before I finally decided to write the fic. It's just that my uni started like a week ago and I still have this huge important exam in two weeks so I don't really have time to write. But I promise you, I _promise,_ I will continue. 

And I want to thank everyone who's reading my fic and leaving kudos and writing comments! 

With love,

Crimson_night 

<3


	4. From within this gaping wound of ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear hearts! I am back again with a new chapter! I want to thank you all lovely people for leaving comments and, of course, for the support! I did in fact pass the exam and very happy with the results.  
> Also, I`m still surprised and very very flattered by all those kudos.  
> Thank you so much!

It's not like he can fly away too far, what with the sun setting down and the air growing colder with each passing minute. Jaskier feels exhaustion deep in his bones, 'It's because I haven't been in this form for ages and just need to get used to it again,' he thought to himself. The fae lands not far away from the clearing, approximately ten minutes’ flight. It's quite hard to land properly with all those trees around him, but he manages.

Jaskier thinks about whether to make a fire or not and decides on the former. His skin is still covered with goosebumps from the cold and he chooses to deal with this problem first, but none of his doublets or chemises would fit him now with his wings and all. Then, he remembers that he has a quite warm winter quilt in one of his bags and begins to rummage through the bigger one. Jaskier pulls the blanket out, wraps it around himself, and ties a knot on the two upper ends so it won`t slip off of him. It`s a good thing he hadn`t gone a cheapskate on himself and bought a quite large and warm quilt at the last second. After a minute standing like that he can feel goosebumps fade away and warmth starts to build up in his chest. He stands like that some more and decides it's time to gather some kindling.

The bard starts with sticks that are lying around this little glade and moves closer to the trees. When he finds that the number of sticks and twigs he's holding on his left forearm are quite enough, he straightens his back.

"Fuck!" he yelps in sudden pain, not understanding yet what happened. The bard bows his head and extends his arm to touch the hurting body part. When he reaches his left horn Jaskier realises what exactly happened. "Fucking seriously?!" he exclaimed into the forest. Although his horns are very sturdy, they are quite sensitive too. They also are rather long and, once again, he forgot to move around just so they won't catch on everything on their way. Jaskier raises his head and sees the sulcus on the trunk of the tree, where his horn rubbed against it. Cicada's chirping sounds like they аre laughing at him.

"Ha-ha, very funny, you little fuckers."

So it seems like he hasn`t gained all his fae powers yet because he is not able to sense _the damn tree_ on his way. ‘ So much for a creature of nature, Jask.’ He just sighs and sits straight on the forest floor to arrange kindling and puts some dried grass so everything could catch on fire. The fae lits up a little unstable fireball in his right palm and then brings it to the wood, watches it lighting up, and blows on it for the flames to spread.

Jaskier pulls jerky, a piece of bread and cheese out of his pack in order to give himself some nutrition even though he doesn`t feel like eating. The food tastes like ash and stops in his throat in a form of a ball that he can not swallow while trying to wish away the tears from his swelling eyes.

It`s quite poetic, isn`t it? A true bard thrives on the feeling of heartbreak. It`s an important part of human life and so songs based on this particular spectrum of emotions are very popular among old, young, poor, and rich and all the other layers of society. So singing them brings a hefty sum into bards` pockets if they are skilled enough to compose a heart-wrenching song that would bring the most heartless men to tears.

He`d felt as if he was struck by a lightning bolt when he realised that he`s in love with Geralt. Those feelings he considered friendship appeared to be a lot more deep and complicated. Jaskier felt as if someone poured a gallon of dwarven spirit on him and lit him up to be burned alive by the strength of his own emotions. And from that moment all he could think of were strong hands, white hair, broad shoulders, and piercing gold eyes the bard couldn’t live without. Geralt did steal all his reason, after all, melting it down not only with his looks but also kind and brave heart.

He knew from the start that his rather passionate feelings for the certain white-headed Witcher won`t do any good for them. The man in question flinched at the mere word _friend_ and the bard even after twenty years of following the Witcher can`t predict what he`d do if Jaskier told him he loves him. So he decided to remain silent and love Geralt from afar, help him in his time of need and just be there for him, like everyone in this damned world needs.

It wasn`t hard to hide his feelings from Geralt and it`s not because witchers can`t feel, no. That`s just foul lies people make up to have one more reason to hate witchers, to spit at their feet, to lie about contracts, and refuse to pay men who protect them from the beasts they are too scared and not strong enough to defend themselves from.

The point is Geralt doesn`t want to deal with his or anyone else`s emotions so Jaskier masked all his feelings as friendship and was happy with that because then he can be by his witcher`s side and that`s all that matters.

Or, perhaps, Geralt knew. He`s a witcher, after all, he has enhanced senses and he could`ve heard every time Jaskier`s heartbeat became more rapid at their close proximity or Geralt`s rare flattering words. Once Geralt implied he could smell emotions and, well, Jaskier is pretty sure he smelt like arousal every time the Witcher got naked. Hell, for all Jaskier knew, Geralt might also smell love.

Jaskier was content being just a friend and the slight possibility of his witcher knowing his true feelings didn`t bother him much, but it hurt a bit. And then, Yennefer came.

And it all became so much worse.

The fae wished he had never yelled at Geralt by that lake, hadn`t acted like, well, _himself_ , hadn`t annoyed sleep-deprived witcher to the point where said witcher wished for silence forever. Jaskier berated himself for not reacting fast enough to absorb djin`s magic and prevent the subsequent damage to his throat, to never meet Yennefer.

And if only Jaskier hadn`t dragged unwilling witcher to that betrothal, Geralt wouldn`t have acquired himself a child.

_The Child Surprise. The djin. All of it._

“ I truly am a shit-shoveller,” silent sobs escaped bard`s trembling lips as his vision blurred by tears.

“It`s all my fault”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> It seems I am incapable of writing a chapter with more than 1500 words :3


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